Eternal Sonata
by Wolf McCloud-123
Summary: A rewrite of the events of Eternal Sonata. See description inside for details.


_**Eternal Sonata**_

(As rewritten by Wolf McCloud-123)

A/N: So, Eternal Sonata was kind of a fun game. I thought it lacked a little something (strong characterizations, for one thing, but I'm sure there are people who will argue with me there), so I did the first logical thing and decided to rewrite it.

I don't know how to classify this fanfic, really. It follows the same plot, and I wanted to stick close to canon but make it different at the same time. As such, the situations (so far) are the same, but the dialogue is radically different. That may change in the future, since I have some plans for them, but for now just expect a straight novelization-sans-actual-dialogue-from-the-game.

So please don't review (if you review at all) to tell me that "Allegretto wasn't like that," or "Polka would never do that." It's somewhat of an AU fic, in that I tried to write it like I would write one of my own stories.

That said, I do sincerely hope you enjoy my version.

Disclaimer: Eternal Sonata is the intellectual property of Namco and Tri-Crescendo Studios. I do not own any of these characters or locations.

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**Prelude **

Parting a sea of red nothingness was a cliff, and on that cliff stood a scrawny blonde girl. She looked hesitantly into the churning clouds below, wondering if what she was about to do was the _right_ thing to do. Finally, holding her head high, she took a tepid step forward.

She knew she had to do this. It was for him, after all. Doing it was easy if it was for _him_.

She turned and gave the cliffs a final silent farewell, then let herself fall backwards and into the red. She prayed that her thanks would reach all her friends; it had been a very short time, but she had felt so happy. Then she thought of _him_.

_If I blow him a kiss, will it reach him?_

Her eyes grew watery, but not from the air rushing past her face; her throat ached as she held back her pitiful sobs. She let the tears flow freely, now that nobody was around to see her cry. There was nobody she had to be strong for anymore. There was nobody to catch kisses, either.

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"Mommy, why are there waves in the sea?"

Solfege looked down at her daughter, the little blonde girl she knew should've been at least ten times as energetic by now. "Well, Polka, that's because of the moon."

Polka frowned. "The _moon_?" She said it as if it was some bizarre foreign concept which, Solfege supposed, it probably was to a five-year-old. "How can the moon make waves if it's in the sky?"

Solfege couldn't help but smile. "The sea thinks the moon is beautiful, you see. It's so charmed, it just can't sit still!" At Polka's further confused look, Solfege asked, "Why, don't you ever feel something flutter inside you when you look at the moon?"

"Well… yeah," Polka said. A suspicious look crossed her face. "Mommy, are you lying to me?"

"Of course not, dear. Why would I ever lie to you?"

The little blonde looked around, searching the flower field for only God knew what. Suddenly she broke free of her mother's grip and hurried over to a puddle, hidden in the yellow flowers and tall grass. "All right, then, what about this puddle? Does it have waves?"

Solfege joined her daughter at the lip of the puddle, thinking up some other motherly wisdom in a flash. "There's not enough water in there to have waves. It needs lots of water—like the ocean—to have waves."

Solfege saw Polka frown into the puddle, reflecting the little girl's likeness like a mirror. "That's unfair. Why does it need to have lots of water? Why can't it have waves like the ocean?"

Her mother looked up into the sky; it was cloudless and blue, as it usually was over Tenuto. "The amount of water is very important in making waves. Well, really, a puddle _can_ have waves—they're just so tiny you don't see them. But the more water there is, the bigger the waves will be."

"Oh…"

"And do you know what stops waves, Polka?"

"Um, that happens when the moon goes away, right?"

"Nope. It only happens when something gets in their way to calm them down. The sea might be charmed by the moon, but get it distracted and its waves stop rolling." She smiled at her daughter and offered her hand. Polka stood up and took it. "But even with something in their way, the waves might not be so keen on stopping. So that object has to be strong, like a rock."

"Oh, so that's why they always go '_sploosh_!' over the big boulders at the shore, huh?"

"Exactly. Waves might crash against them, but they never move."

"Mommy, I want to be a boulder when I grow up!"

"Oh, I don't know if that would be a good idea. Boulders don't move, do they? There would be nobody to help me make cookies or go on walks with me. And they're big and hard, right? They'd be awfully hard to… _hug_!" She snatched Polka in her arms and hauled her up, sending Polka into hysterical giggles. Solfege laughed along with her.

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The only sound in the room was of the constant _tick-tock_, _tick-tock_ of the grandfather clock in the corner. Frederic lay on his back in bed. It was difficult to tell that he was even alive just by watching him; the rise and fall of his chest was hard to spot, and he was as pale as a corpse.

"He must be having a pleasant dream," the doctor said quietly.

Ludwika didn't say anything. They both knew that was just wishful thinking. He'd been sickly all his life and now… Well, it had to happen someday, didn't it? Ludwika wondered just how long she'd been in denial about Frederic's constitution, even with the infections and coughing fits he'd suffered through as a child.

If Frederic was having any dreams at all, Ludwika mused, they were definitely not pleasant.

"It would be nice if he was having pleasant dreams," she said. "It would be nicer if he was recovering."

The doctor was silent for a long moment, before murmuring, "It's said that people have peaceful dreams right before they pass on…"

"But he's not passing on," she insisted.

"Oh, of course he's not. Just something the wife told me the other day."

Ludwika gave him a frown for good measure, then turned her attention back to Frederic. She wanted to memorize his face, so she wouldn't ever have to worry about forgetting it.


End file.
